Philip looked at his younger brother, who was sitting quietly, his fingers drumming a soft, steady rhythm on the polished table. Philip smirked, a look of pure, confident victory on his face. He had his brother right where he wanted him: on the defensive, in front of the entire advisory council.
"I find it deeply problematic," Philip continued, his voice full of a false, grave concern, "that these terrible rumors are attached to the wife of someone who might hold an important position in this company in the very near future. Are you able to explain this situation to the council, brother?"
The direct, public challenge hung in the tense air. Just as Eric was about to respond, a sharp knock sounded on the heavy, oak door of the council room.
"I have a package and a letter for His Grace, Duke Eric," a voice came from the other side of the door.
